The Phantom's Ghost
by DarkFirebird
Summary: Erik has finally become what the little ballet girls and stagehands thought him to be, a ghost. But Ghosts linger for a purpose, even if the purpose only lasts a moment to see the result of his most important choice in life. No real romance, only the shad


The Phantom's Ghost

A/N: I know I should be working on A.B.F.L. (my other fic) but my mind has been completely engrossed with Phantom of the Opera lately. And this is what has become of it.

Disc: Erik belongs to Leroux and the ages, but Megan is a figment of my imagination even though the name is significant in some small way.

In dreams she came here, she sang on the great stage and won the hearts of millions. But no, she could not sing, her father forbade it, just as his mother and his grandparents had. It had been hard enough to convince him to let her go to this magical place that she dreamed of nightly.

A shiver went through the girl as she entered the famous Opera house; the sheer ecstasy of being there overcame her as her eyes gazed in awe at the beautiful architecture. Yet she had to hurry on as the tour group was leaving her…she didn't know why her father had protested, she was twenty one and had the right to do as she pleased. Perhaps if he dreamed of this place as she did he could understand her obsession, but how could he possibly understand this strange desire that made her heart ache? He who had repressed her talents despite the praise she received from others, he who had pulled her from the school musical with curses being thrown at him from the Director…he who also sang like an angel but shunned his talent. Her father could never understand.

Her ears only half heard what their guide droned to them in his monotone voice, she was now lost in her own fantasy and no one could reach her. But perhaps she had wandered too far into her dream world…for a shadow passed nearby in the doorway of a private box. The girl stopped and looked queerly at it, not noticing that the guide was addressing her.

"Madam!" A stern voice finally snapped her back into reality. "What is your name Miss?"

"Megan…" She replied with some hesitation.

"Well!" The guide exclaimed with his first sign of emotion since the tour began. "Megan is perhaps a fan of the famous tale "The Phantom of the Opera" as she is looking at the infamous box five, which was the Phantom's private box." The group gaped at the box and one or two of the tourists snapped a photo of the number above.

"But I saw…" The girl stopped herself and glanced once more at the private box with a peculiar feeling of familiarity, as if she had known that there was something special about it. Yet she had never read The Phantom of the Opera, it was another thing which her father forbade, along with the musical and any movie made of it. And the only reason this had come about is that her father had come across her watching a rather inaccurate telling of the story on TV.

Their group now traveled down to the lower levels. Down below the stage and then lower still, until one tourist ventured to ask where they were going.

"Why to the lake of course." Their leader replied, giving a sly smile to Megan. "It was on the banks of this lake that a skeleton as found and who some believed was the remains of Phantom." The others suddenly whispered excitedly amongst themselves while Megan sudden felt a thrill go up her spine, the shadow passed again behind a set piece. This time though she did not stop to stare, as she wanted to se this lake as much as anyone else.

It was around this time that Megan began to hear a strange sound, the faintest sound of music that came from everywhere and nowhere. She looked around to see if anyone else heard the sweet sound, but it seemed that it was only audible to her ears. The girl soon assumed that she was just hearing some musician, off in another part of the building, practicing for some upcoming performance. Which would explain why no one else took notice, yet it only seemed to grow louder and sweeter as they went deeper into the depths of the opera, and none heard it but she. Megan was about to inquire if the woman in front of her also heard the music when they entered the lowest level of the underground opera. The sweet sound suddenly stopped but the remembrance of its notes made the girl's ears tingle in delight.

"Being such a vast and ill lit lake, no one has ever found the house which the Phantom supposedly built." The guide had returned to his regular tour voice and this slightly disheartened the others as they wanted to feel the trill and romance of this legend. But Megan felt a thrill all over her body, for just at that moment she felt the hot breath of another on her neck, which was wholly impossible as she was the last in line and could see the others before her. Slowly she turned her head and let out a small sigh when she saw that there was no one behind her, but there was the distinct feeling that she was being watched and followed very closely.

So small a group a group they had that they were allowed a short break in which they could wander the shores of the black lake. Megan had decided to stick close the group as not to encounter the shadow or the searing breath again. However, a dark corner soon drew her attention, for it looked as if two stars had fallen from the sky above only to hang with a mystical air from the wall that was shrouded in a dark veil.

She inched close to the wall with caution, hoping that the others would not notice her strange behavior. Her hand went forth in order to find the cause of the earthbound stars, but they disappeared just as her hand reached them. The cold dampness surrounded her once again.

"_..A present from your poor, unhappy Erik…"_

Megan stared blankly into the dark, dumbstruck at the sudden whisper and rush of hot air upon her ear. The girl almost turned to run, run back to the safety of the group and the light, but something caught her eye. On the ground near her right foot, there laid a simple gold ring…a wedding ring. Her fingers froze once she picked up the ring, and she toyed with idea of flinging it from her, but she soon stood and placed it into her pocket. A feeling of great calm and protection had come over her, and from that day forth it stayed with her to give her courage, as long as it remained round her neck.

Leroux, Pg. 254

A/N: I know that the ring remained on Erik's finger even in death, but I figure that since he has become the true Opera Ghost he can do as he pleases. And did anyone figure out who Megan is?


End file.
